The Beginning of Wisdom
by M C Pehrson
Summary: This story is the first of my series, "A Trek Redeux". It asks you to open your mind and wonder, "What if Spock's life had turned out a bit differently?" The repercussions of one Vulcan's choice could be far-reaching.
1. Chapter 1

The last scarlet rays of Eridani slanted through the living room windows, striking the Easter icon that Mother had set in a place of honor on the polished side table. Was it only this morning that she had defied Father and brought it out of storage? Only this morning that the two of them had argued?

Young Spock stepped closer to the icon. Any child would be fascinated by the ornate rendering of angels, saints, and prophets; by the Christ figure holding an oddly shaped staff while all about him people rose from their tombs. But though his eyes studied it, his mind was consumed by the memory of his parents' quarrel. Not that Father had truly raised his voice. He never shouted, but even so, the words he spoke had been terrible.

"Our union has proved to be an error," he had said. "Our two races are philosophically…and perhaps even genetically…incompatible. And as for the boy…"

Remembering, Spock choked back tears of misery. Was crying really a sign of weakness? A result of his human mother "encouraging emotionalism and promoting foolish myths"? Now that he had returned from a day of hiding, would Father make good his threat to take him away from her?

The house was so very still that the ticking of Mother's grandfather clock seemed even louder than usual. Father had always disliked the sound, had certainly never permitted it to chime. But now, gradually, Spock became aware of another faint and disturbing sound, like the small whimpers I-Chaya sometimes made in his sleep.

Gathering his courage, he called out, "Mother? Mother, are you here?"

A door in the hall burst open, and there she stood. Rushing toward him, she dropped down on one knee, scooped him into her arms and cried, "I thought Sarek had you!"

A strange mixture of joy and sorrow beat at Spock's mental barriers, but he welcomed her feelings, for they were so much like his own. "I…I ran out through the yard," he explained. "I went into town."

"Good boy," she said, hugging him even tighter. Then drawing back, she looked at him through tear-dampened eyes. "We must hurry now and pack a few things. We're going on a trip. A long trip, far away from here."

There was such a sense of relief that he openly said, "I'm glad. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to go with Father." Hopefully he added, "And I-Chaya? Can my sehlat come, too?"

Mother sighed so heavily that he knew there would be yet another parting today. How strange, that it hurt even more than losing an undemonstrative Vulcan father.

oooo

By now, Sarek knew they were gone. The marital link Amanda shared with the ambassador was not as deep or binding as that of a Vulcan wife, but even so, she could sense his outrage. Well, let him steam. At least for now Spock was out of his reach, seated safely beside her in the starliner. A Ventura Eagle starliner, registered on Earth and not subject to Vulcan's laws.

Spock stirred. Looking up from his padd, he said, "I have been studying the city of Seattle. _Your_ city."

Amanda turned toward him, and gazing into his earnest brown eyes, finger-combed his perfect dark bangs to one side. A small touch, but it made him seem a bit more human. She hoped that, in time, he would unlearn the taut emotional and behavioral strictures demanded by Vulcan culture. Perhaps in time he would even learn to play.

"Yes, Seattle." She tried her best to smile. "I loved living there when I was a girl."

Settling back in the cushioned seat, she thought of the subspace message speeding ahead to her father. Would it reach him today? She could easily imagine Professor Grayson's reaction. A startled lift of a brow, and a little chuckle as his blue eyes lit with anticipation. Then, being a practical man, he would contact his lawyer and see to the spare bedrooms that once belonged to her and her sister Doris.

Amanda could not wait to settle in. How good it would feel to snuggle under an old quilt while rain spattered against the windowpanes. Oh, how she had missed the sound and even the smell of rain. But she dared not stay long in Seattle, for _he_ was sure to come looking.

A fresh stab of regret seized her, and now even her head began to ache. Oh, how had it come to this? She alone might have endured Sarek's inflexible ways and disapproving silences, but there was Spock to consider. The boy had suffered enough. He was all that mattered now.

But how would a half-Vulcan child fare among the humans on Earth?

Pushing aside that nagging worry, she recalled a dependable comfort from her own childhood and turned to prayer.

oooo

Grandfather Grayson was off at the university when they arrived at his home. Debarking from an aircab with his mother, Spock gripped a small valise containing a few essentials and hurried through the drizzle to the front porch. Though the April cold was considered mild by Seattle standards, it sliced through his thin Vulcan clothing. Before Mother could open the door, he was already shivering. Once inside, she turned up the heat and settled him on a sofa with a heavy decorative "afghan".

"I'll be right back," she said, and went down the hallway with their luggage.

Spock sat alone, intently studying his surroundings. At first it seemed that nothing had changed in the one-point-six Earth years since his previous visit. Same burgundy carpeting. Same furniture. Same lamps. Even the same grotesque faces peered at him from the wood grain of the paneling that covered the living room walls.

But suddenly, from down the hall, came a commotion. In ran a spotted creature on four legs, emitting loud distressing noises as it rushed straight toward him.

Startled, Spock leapt onto the sofa cushion, but there was no escaping the intruder as it planted its paws near Spock's feet and barked up at his pallid face.

Mother hurried back into the room. "Stop that!" she said with authority. "Hadrian, sit! Sit down!"

To Spock's relief, the animal obeyed. But its suspicious eyes never left him for a moment.

A dog. Well, _that_ was new.

oooo

At sundown the rain had ended. Now the kitchen blinds were tightly shut as Amanda sat with her father at a small oak table, sipping tea. Spock was in bed — hopefully asleep, but knowing the sensitivity of Vulcan hearing, she kept her voice low.

"So first thing tomorrow, I file for custody."

"My attorney recommends it." With his graying hair and distinguished manner, Charles Grayson perfectly fit the traditional image of a history professor. "Until a custody order is in place, Sarek will have a legal right to his son. And by filing here, the case will be litigated on Earth, under our laws."

Amanda wrapped her hands tightly around her flowered mug. "What if he's already filed on Vulcan?"

"I doubt if Ambassador Sarek would want anyone knowing his personal business just now. That famed Vulcan privacy should work in your favor. Any attempt to kidnap the boy would make headline news here on Earth."

Perhaps so, but she had to admit, "I don't feel safe knowing this is the first place he'd come looking."

"Well then, he'd have to deal with Hadrian." Smiling, Charles reached toward the dog at his feet and patted Hadrian's noble head. The brown and white springer spaniel thumped his undocked tail in appreciation.

"He doesn't seem to like Vulcans," Amanda agreed. "At least not young ones."

As if on cue, the dog jumped to his feet and facing the doorway, barked loudly at a frowning child with elfin ears.

What might those inquisitive little ears have heard?

oooo

That first night, Spock lay awake listening to every small sound, wondering if Father had come to kidnap him. Now and then he heard a snuffling at the base of his door and tried to wish Grandfather Grayson's boisterous canine away. Hadrian was so different from his placid pet sehlat, back home.

Oh, how he missed old I-Chaya! Was anyone caring for him? Feeding and grooming him? Or had he been left to die of neglect?

Turning onto his side, Spock gazed at the imitation creature that Grandfather had retrieved from an old "toy box". It smelled strange. A pair of false golden eyes glimmered blankly in its worn face. Though Spock understood that the "teddy bear" was somehow meant to comfort him, he did not find it at all reassuring. Since it had neither breath nor warmth, it seemed dead. And he did not like having something dead sharing his bed.

Reaching out, he pushed the imitation bear a little at a time until it tumbled onto the carpeted floor. Hadrian's keen ears heard. Outside the door, he stirred and growled low in his throat.

Knowing that the animal lay between him and his mother, Spock's dislike for him intensified.

oooo

With the legal paperwork filed at court, Amanda felt jumpy waiting around for Sarek's response. Any knock at the door might be him or his representative. That was reason enough to seek a new living arrangement, but Hadrian's behavior sealed her decision. The dog simply refused to accept Spock.

First, Amanda purchased a used but serviceable hover car. At her father's suggestion, she checked out nearby Port Gamble, a scenic town on the Kitsap Peninsula. Both she and Spock found it "fascinating", and thanks to her father's connections, soon secured a fully furnished guest cottage in the historic district that dated back to the 1800's. Fortunately, income posed no problem. She was already under an audio book contract, producing Vulcan works in English and English books for a Vulcan audience. That, she could do anywhere. And being an accredited teacher, she was always willing to tutor struggling students. Of course, teaching her own child was top priority.

It was a cool but sunny day at Port Gamble. Bundled in his new warm clothes, Spock kept to her side as they strolled along Rainier Avenue. Amanda stopped outside a beautiful old Episcopal church for a lesson in history, architecture, and religion. But before long, her usually attentive son turned away and stared over at the huge conifer in the church yard.

"Spock, what is it?" she asked.

To her amazement, he ran from her — _ran_ like a human boy — hopped a white picket fence, and gazed straight up into the tree branches.

"…Spock?" she questioned.

It was then that she heard the pitiful little meow.

Amanda walked over and joined him. Her heart warmed as a scrawny half-grown kitten clawed its way down the bark, into Spock's waiting arms. A most unVulcan smile tugged at his lips — delightful to see, but a sure sign of trouble ahead. With each stroke of his small hand, the yellow bundle of fur purred louder.

Spock cast her a pleading look as he asked the age-old question. "Can I keep it?"

Since the cat was clearly a stray, she could hardly claim that it already had an owner. That left only the plain, hard truth. As gently as possible, she said, "I'm sorry, son, but the landlord doesn't allow pets."

Spock seemed to take the news well. But after solemnly studying the kitten, he looked up at her with a new, quite calculating expression.

"Not a pet, Mother. A biological specimen."

Amanda nearly gasped. Was her Vulcan-trained son actually suggesting an act of deception? Or did he see it only as a matter of logic? Of one thing she was certain. With the homeless tabby nestled safely in Spock's arms, it would be hard to deny either of them.

oooo

It scarcely surprised Spock that he had gotten his way. Father would never have allowed him to break the landlord's rule, but since leaving Vulcan, Mother liked to "make him happy".

However, in one matter she never indulged Spock. They had just completed a tour of the General Store's museum when he was drawn to a colorful display of old-fashioned candies. A tourist boy near his own age was trying to choose among the sugary treats for sale.

Turning to Spock, he briefly studied one pointed ear and asked, "Which is your favorite?"

Spock considered his answer carefully. "I cannot say, for I have not tasted any of these selections or any other candy."

The boy's greenish eyes widened in disbelief. "Why not? Everybody eats candy."

"Your statement is inaccurate," Spock replied. "Sugar is detrimental to a Vulcan's health. Even bitter chocolate can cause an unpleasant…" He immediately regretted the admission, and hoping to seem more human, added, "But…I have a cat."

To his relief, the boy responded in a pleasant manner. "Really? What's its name?"

"K'avon. It means 'hungry'."

The boy screwed up his face. "Kevin? That's just a plain, ordinary name. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does," Spock insisted.

"Does not," argued the boy.

Spock told him, "You are in error."

"And you're weird!" countered the boy, bits of spittle spraying from his mouth. Drawing even closer, he repeated, "Weirdo, weirdo, weirdo!"

Spock experienced a hot surge of anger. Lashing out, he shoved the ignorant human so hard that he fell to the floor. The boy's face turned red and he began to cry. His parents hurried over. Suddenly Spock's mother was also there, looking quite displeased.

"Spock," she demanded, "what have you done?"

He did not immediately answer, for it took a great deal of effort to contain his temper — far more than ever before. Even after his mind cleared and his breathing calmed, he could not bring himself to repeat the boy's insulting words.

Walking home, Mother said she was ashamed of him.

oooo

Dinner at the cottage had gone well. Homemade potato soup generously topped with cheese, and plenty of warm garlic bread on the side. Even Spock had seemed to like the traditional human fare.

Though the dishes were cleared, Amanda and her father remained at the table, quietly talking as they watched Spock play with his cat out in the living room. K'avon scampered wildly after the erratic chase toy that Charles had brought. Now and then Spock smiled broadly at his pet's antics. Then suddenly he laughed.

Charles said, "Well, will you look at that? He turned to Amanda as her brief smile faded into a frown. "What's wrong? I should think you'd be delighted."

She told him about the troubling incident at the General Store, but he shrugged it off. "He's a boy, and boys have been known to tussle."

Amanda was not sure how to voice her concerns. "A while back on Vulcan…there was a fight. A pair of boys taunted Spock and he attacked them…but in that case, he was cornered. Here at the store, he could easily have walked away."

"So he lost control."

"You don't understand," she said. It's…it's _different_ for Vulcans."

"But aren't _human_ emotions the problem? After all, Vulcans have repressed their feelings for so long that they scarcely exist anymore."

Yes, such was the popular myth. Few outworlders knew that Vulcan emotions were far more savage than those of humans. And ordinary Vulcan discipline did not eliminate the violent impulses; it only contained them.

Amanda shuddered at the memory of Sarek's rage lashing out at her on the starliner. Their court date was fast approaching, but so far not a word from him. What might her "unfeeling" husband be planning? And what was becoming of their even-tempered son?

Taking a deep breath, she revealed the truth about Vulcans and their emotions.

oooo

All day, Spock kept sensing his mother's nervousness about tomorrow's court appearance. Since leaving Vulcan, she seldom let him out of her sight, even when she was recording her latest book. At such times he was expected to work quietly and not interrupt her.

They had just finished lunch, and K'avon was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. Spock half listened to Mother's expressive reading as he knelt by the "coffee table", constructing a Federation starship from a model kit. The unmistakable note of tension in her voice kept distracting him. He hoped she would stay across the room and not touch him, for physical contact would only increase his discomfort.

Yet suddenly he could not keep from breaking the rule for quiet, and asked her, "Will Father be at court? Will he come and take me away?"

Mother broke off reading, came to his side and hugged him close. Spock stiffened against the distressing onslaught of her emotions. Love, deep sorrow, but most of all, fear.

"You're staying with me," she said in a tear-choked way that was unconvincing.

Even after she returned to her work, Spock's head spun from the frightening impressions that made his mother seem weak and undependable. Struggling to contain his own fears, he attempted to fit the model pieces together in the proper order. Somehow his fingers squeezed too hard. There was a snapping sound, and a vital part lay shattered.

"No!"

Spock realized with a start that he had shouted. Then suddenly all the misery bottled inside him began to spill out. Screaming in Vulcan, he hurled the hateful fragments of the model kit in every direction. K'avon leapt from the sofa and ran down the hallway. Mother stood, her eyes wide open and her face white with shock.

Though she spoke not a word, it seemed that he had failed her. If she could not look to him for even a child's strength, of what use was he? Overcome by the thought, Spock crumpled to the floor and sobbed.

oooo

Amanda sat with a lawyer, awaiting her turn before the King County judge. If only her father could have been with her, but there was no one else to whom she would entrust Spock. She could only hope that the boy was not causing him any trouble. Yesterday's tantrum had been frightening.

Turning her mind from the memory, she glanced once again over the unfamiliar people at Family Court. Though Sarek had submitted no legal response to her request for custody, might he or his attorney appear at the last minute? Or was Sarek taking this opportunity to seize Spock from her father's home and hurry him back to Vulcan?

As yet another case was heard, her attention drifted to the row of high windows on the left side of the courtroom. Dark storm clouds blotted out the sun, but as yet there was no rain.

"Amanda Grayson S'chn T'gai."

The judge's measured tones snapped her to attention. Heart racing, she rose and accompanied her lawyer to the front of the chamber.

The judge briefly studied his computer display, asked two simple questions, and said, "Since there has been no counterclaim in this matter, the court awards you full physical and legal custody of your minor son, Spock. Effective immediately."

As quickly as that, it was over. Hardly daring to believe the outcome, Amanda left the courtroom and received her lawyer's congratulations. Then, still worried about Spock's safety, she drew out her phone as she strode toward the nearest exit.

A friendly-looking woman stepped into her path and said, "Excuse me…but aren't you Amanda Grayson?"

Amanda stopped and studied the stranger's face with no sense of recognition.

Reaching into a large stylish purse, the woman drew out a manila envelope. Her smile brightened as she handed the envelope over and declared, "You're served." Then turning on her heel, she briskly departed.

So here it was. For one terrible moment Amanda stood frozen, just staring at the unmarked yellow envelope. But as much as she dreaded its contents, there was no sense wasting time. Determinedly she opened the end flap and pulled out a legal-looking document printed in Vulcan script.

"Writ of Dahshaya," it read, among other things, "severing all ties to Amanda Stemple Grayson and any offspring that resulted from her former union with S'chn T'gai Sarek."

oooo

Mother had decided on a "fast food" meal as a means of celebrating that her court appearance had ended well. But now that their order was on the table, Spock's stomach rebelled. The restaurant noise seemed to fade as he stared at the mushrooms and olives atop the triangular slice of pizza on his napkin. His mind filled with the angry words he had overheard from her at Grandfather's house.

 _"In a way, this writ of divorce is almost worse than a custody battle. He wants no part of his own son! How can Sarek do that? How can he just cast him off like…like an old pair of shoes?"_

Spock knew why. It was because he was not good enough. He never had been good enough to satisfy his demanding, unaffectionate father. And lately he was not even good enough for his mother.

Knowing what he would find, he glanced up from his food. Mother's eyes were troubled as she studied him.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say with only a slight tremor.

"Why?" she asked. "What's wrong? I thought you would be hungry."

Dangerously close to tears, he answered, "I was. But not anymore."

Mother grew even more worried. As if to herself, she said, "I hope you're not getting sick..."

She quickly boxed up the pizza and they drove straight home, rain lashing against the hover car's windshield. Once in the house, she took his temperature and found it normal, but sent him to bed with K'avon, anyway.

Spock did not object. He had a lot to think about, and deep thinking came easier when he was alone. Long after his mother went to her bedroom, he lay awake, listening to the storm. Around midnight, the rain stopped and the wind began to blow. The old house shuddered and a bedroom window rattled as if someone — or some _thing_ — were trying to break in.

Suddenly he thought of I-Chaya. Could it be? Had his beloved pet followed him all the way to Earth? He had read stories about dogs traversing many miles to find their masters, and sehlats were even more intelligent. Perhaps even intelligent enough to sneak aboard a starliner.

Forsaking all logic, Spock went to the noisy window and eagerly peered out at the shifting, moonlit shadows.

oooo

Wrapped in her robe, Amanda stood on the porch drinking coffee as the sun peeked above Gamble Bay. Though broken tree limbs and scattered twigs gave evidence of the night's storm, now there was scarcely a breeze. She breathed deeply of the sweet morning air, and listening to birdsong, tried her best to forget her broken marriage. The cold, concise Writ of Divorce had included the standard monetary settlement along with a pledge to ship any personal belongings. How easily Vulcans rid themselves of unwanted partners…and even children. Oh, she had a legal right to contest the action, but to what purpose? The union had clearly been a mistake.

Now, a nagging concern over Spock's health sent her back inside to check on him. Quietly she walked down the hall and cracked open his bedroom door. K'avon yawned and looked up at her from a rumpled but empty bed.

"Spock…?" she said, opening the door wider so she could see the entire room.

Nothing.

She went down the hallway and back, growing increasingly anxious as she checked every corner of the cottage. Fighting panic, she hurried out on the porch and called his name once, twice, three times.

No one answered.

Her blood ran cold and she rushed for the phone. Her father answered on the second ring.

"He's done it!" she blurted. "Sarek stole him! He's taken Spock!"

oooo

The persistent whining of a skimmer drew Spock from a terrible dream in which his father had abducted him. And then I-Chaya had suddenly appeared and was fighting Sarek to the death.

For a moment he was afraid to open his eyes. He felt cold — shivering cold — and hungrier than ever before in his life. Somewhere overhead, the skimmer's whine kept moving in a monotonous circle. Then, voices intruded. A man shouted his name.

Spock sat up and found himself in a thick, damp forest. Strangers were running toward him along a trail. One of them spoke into a communicator.

"Yes, the boy is here! He seems alright!"

Another man came over and wrapped Spock in a warm blanket. Gently he pulled him to his feet and said, "Well, little fellow, it looks like you've had quite an adventure. Ready to go home?"

Spock gave no reply. As they stood awaiting a transporter beam, there was ample time to consider the enormity of his mistake. He had wandered alone into a dark forest, foolishly searching for a pet that could not possibly be there. But he had so wanted to believe it, that he had actually lied to himself. And now he had inconvenienced an entire search party and caused his mother yet more worry.

Amanda was standing beside a neighbor lady when the transporter released him at the foot of their porch steps. Hurrying over, she caught him into her arms and kissed him right there in front of everyone. Spock tried to focus on the basic Mind Rules taught to every Vulcan child, but his mother's rioting emotions and the burden of his own shame were overwhelming. Then the inevitable questions began, and he felt himself withdrawing to a place of safety deep within.


	2. Chapter 2

Though house calls were notoriously expensive, Amanda would gladly pay any differential demanded by her insurance. She was just plain grateful that an acquaintance of her father happened to be in Seattle, attending a medical conference. A general practitioner with an interest in psychiatry _and_ alien humanoids. Doctor David McCoy had jumped at the chance to examine a rare halfling, and had even brought his pre-teen son along.

Spock sat on the living room sofa, showing absolutely no interest in McCoy's humming handheld scanner or the doctor's son, who stood to one side, watching.

"Be still now, boy," McCoy drawled, zeroing in on Spock's head.

"He hasn't spoken in three days," Amanda said anxiously. "Not one single word since they found him in the woods." There was really no need for her to repeat it. The doctor's own effort to engage Spock in conversation had utterly failed.

McCoy studied the scanner readings before switching it off.

"Well?" Amanda asked hopefully.

McCoy's blue eyes were troubled as he gave her a faint smile. "How about we let my Lenny entertain Spock while you and I have a private talk?"

Amanda's pulse raced as she ushered him down the hallway, into her bedroom, and closed the door. There, the doctor questioned her about her current family situation, Spock's recent behavior, and the degree of mental training he had received on Vulcan. They were no different from the hard questions she had already been asking herself. And now, McCoy's grim pronouncement seemed to validate her own worst fears.

"Mrs. Grayson, the boy's Vulcan genes are clearly dominant. Therefore he has certain mental needs that must be addressed or the internal strain will become a danger to him and to everyone around him. I believe the aphasia is one of many risin' symptoms. Here among humans, he's like a fish out of water. I suggest you either take him back to Vulcan or — "

"Never!" she said fiercely.

"Or," McCoy continued in a gentler tone, "find someone to guide his emotional development, someone skilled in calmin' techniques of meditation. Better yet, take him to live in a sunny community where those techniques are put into practice every day." Grinning ear to ear, he added, "And I know just the place!"

Though Spock was increasingly aware of the lanky twelve-year-old staring at him, he resisted a very natural urge to react. But when Lenny McCoy got down on his knees so that their eyes were level, Spock could not help but look aside.

"Aha," Lenny drawled in an annoyingly superior manner. "You're in there somewhere, aren't you? Better quit playin' dumb or they'll cart you off to a funny farm."

 _Funny farm._ Spock focused on the strange term. He was, of course, familiar with farms, but did not understand how any farm could possibly be humorous…or why he might be taken to such a place. He was wishing that his mother would return when K'avon suddenly jumped on the sofa and climbed into his lap, purring loudly.

"Is that your cat?" Lenny asked.

Spock gave no reply. He sat absolutely still, ignoring the pinpricks of K'avon's claws as the cat vigorously pumped on his leg. But it was more difficult to ignore an increasing sense of hostility toward Doctor McCoy's intrusive son.

"Maybe he's _my_ cat," Lenny said.

Deep inside Spock, a fiery locus of anger ignited. One finger escaped his control and gave a twitch.

Lenny noticed. "If he's yours, just tell me. Otherwise, I guess he's mine." And so saying, he reached out.

The youth's hands were settling into K'avon's fur when Spock gave a fierce shout, and with all the force of a Vulcan, punched Lenny right in the nose. K'avon leapt clear as young McCoy fell to the floor, red blood spurting.

oooo

It had been a long trying day, and Amanda sighed as she tucked her troublesome boy into bed. "It's a lucky thing that David McCoy is a tolerant man. Did you _have_ to go and break his son's nose? Just because Lenny tried to pet your cat?" She still wondered if there was more to the story, but Spock was as silent and remote as ever. Pained by his strange behavior, she sat down beside him. "Well, there are going to be some changes. Before David…before _Doctor_ McCoy left, he was kind enough to help me settle on a plan for you."

Spock had not once met her eyes. Now, as she noticed tears welling, Amanda's heart went out to him. Very gently she urged, "Please look at me."

His dark gaze slowly rose to meet hers. Even that level of response was a hopeful sign. "Good," she said, relaxing a bit. "I know you've been having trouble controlling yourself. What you need is an instructor in mental discipline, like you had on Vulcan. Only your new teacher will be a little different. He'll show you how to restrain your negative emotions while at the same time allowing the freer expression of positive emotions. And all this means…that we'll be moving soon."

His mouth opened. Lower lip trembling, he asked, "To…a funny _farm_?"

Amanda laughed in surprise. He had finally spoken! But what an odd thing to say. "No dear, not a funny farm. Where did you get such an idea?"

"That boy called Lenny," came the reply. "He said they would 'cart me off to a funny farm'. Although I am not sure what it means."

"Never mind," she assured him. "We're going to someplace wonderful. A place where the weather is warmer and people try harder to be nice."

He abruptly rose from his pillow. "And what of K'avon? Will he come, too?"

"Of course." Easing him back down, she brushed his bangs aside and kissed his warm forehead. "Sleep now. No wandering tonight. Promise?"

"Yes, Mother," he answered, much to her delight.

oooo

With Spock's cat and their few personal belongings securely loaded in the hover car, Mother spent the better part of a day flying from the Pacific Northwest to a rural area outside of Lumpkin, Georgia. They had traveled in four time zones and the sun was low in the sky when the wooded Akita Enclave at last came into view.

Reinforcing her prior instructions, Mother said, "Doctor McCoy has come down from Atlanta just to welcome us and cook dinner. Now remember, as soon as we meet him and his son, you'll apologize to Lenny for that punch in the nose."

"But," Spock objected, "it is not logical to apologize for an action that one does not regret. And some say that regret itself is illogical."

"Well, _this_ someone doesn't consider it illogical," Mother firmly replied. "Regret or no regret, you will apologize because we are living on Earth, where it is polite to do so."

The car's guidance system directed them to a parking space outside a small, single level house. David McCoy and his son rose from a pair of outdoor chairs on the front porch. Spock could not help but notice how his mother's face brightened at the sight of the doctor.

A sudden thought occurred to him and he wondered aloud, "Has he no bondmate?"

Mother powered down the hover car before turning to meet Spock's eyes. Very quietly she said, "His wife died a couple of years ago. But it would be discourteous to mention that. Do you understand?"

Though there was a great deal about human courtesy that Spock did not understand, he replied, "As you wish. I will not mention it to the doctor."

Mother gave him a taut smile. Then they left the car and started up a walkway shaded by pine trees of a type very different from those at Port Gamble. Doctor McCoy and Lenny met them halfway.

"Welcome to the finest state in the union," the doctor drawled with a grin.

"Good afternoon," Lenny solemnly spoke in an identical drawl. His nose was slightly swollen, and he shifted uncomfortably as he frowned at Spock.

Doctor McCoy broke the tension. "Now Amanda, you two take it easy. Lenny and I will unload everything."

Mother's hand descended on Spock's shoulder. Even had he not directly sensed her thoughts, the meaning would have been clear. "Greetings," Spock said in what he hoped was a sufficiently polite manner. Focusing on lanky Lenny, he continued. "I apologize for striking you…and…and I am also sorry that your mother is dead."

The fingers on his shoulder cinched tighter and gave him a little shake. "Spock! Didn't I tell you—?"

Confused, he looked up at his mother's flushed, disapproving face and tried to explain. "But I was not speaking to the doctor. I was speaking to his son."

As she rolled her eyes skyward, Doctor McCoy chuckled and said, "Sharp mind, that little fellow. And a sharp tongue to match."

oooo

A delicious aroma of chicken and dumplings wafted from the kitchen. Following doctor's orders, Amanda sat in the small living room sipping a glass of fruity wine, her feet propped comfortably on a hassock. Strange new furnishings surrounded her, rather Asian in style. Tomorrow she would met Mr. Akita and discuss Spock's mental training. Having studied under Vulcans, Zen masters, and Christian monks, Akita had developed his own Middle Way of Tranquility firmly centered in God. Surely there was no one on Earth more qualified to guide her halfling son.

"Dinner's ready!"

David McCoy's cheerful call turned her thoughts in another direction. Rising, she went into the tidy kitchen where Spock and Lenny were placing her unpacked dishes and flatware on a table. David set his cooking pot beside a bowl of deli salad, and they all sat down to a family-style meal.

"Mind if I say grace?" the doctor asked. "My granddaddy was a preacher and I never got over it."

Amanda gave her consent. But hearing McCoy's simple words of thanks, she suspected that the prayer had more to do with a deep personal faith than any lingering family influence. In that way, as in so many others, David was the polar opposite of Sarek. Amanda had never met a kinder, warmer man. And his flashes of wry humor sometimes even made her laugh. It had been such a long time since she had laughed.

She watched him heap Spock's plate with dumplings and vegetables in chicken gravy, and a generous side of salad.

"Eat hearty, son," he said.

Spock cast him a quizzical look. "But Doctor, I am not your son."

"Of course not," McCoy answered pleasantly as he served Amanda, Lenny, and himself. "It's just a polite expression."

Spock's dark slanted brows puckered together. "But it is…an imprecise form of speech. And sir, if I might ask, on what facts do you base your assertion that Georgia is the 'best state in the union'?"

Now that he had resumed talking, he could not seem to keep quiet. Amanda was about to shush him when David winked at her. He was clearly enjoying the exchange. And why not? It was an interest in half-caste children that first brought him into their lives.

Forking a bite of chicken breast, McCoy chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before saying, "Well, young man, a talented fellow named John Howard Payne once put it nicely. "'Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home'."

Spock considered the famous phrase, his dinner still untouched. At last he said, "But…if there is no place like home…then one could never find a home…for it would not exist."

Like a true Vulcan, he had taken the phrase literally.

Whether Lenny was trying to be helpful or simply add to the general confusion, he declared, "'Home is where the heart is'."

Spock's lips compressed and frustration flared in his eyes as he confronted the older boy. "That is illogical! Mother, tell him!"

Amanda sighed. "Spock, calm yourself," she gently admonished. "Let's see if you can eat your dinner quietly. It's really quite good."

To her relief, he turned his attention on his plate, slowly picked up his fork, and tasted a dumpling. Little by little the food went down.

oooo

In a pleasantly austere room, Spock sat across from Mr. Akita on floor cushions. Both the stillness and the posture of meditation were familiar to him, for on Vulcan he had taken similar lessons since the age of three.

Mr. Akita was a wiry, dark-haired man of Japanese ancestry. He spoke in a calm, friendly manner that Spock found very soothing. He asked that Spock call him _Sensei,_ which meant teacher. Sensei explained that little by little he would lead Spock through a series of mental exercises to help block out the thoughts of others and control destructive emotions. But it would not happen all at once. It could take years.

"Now close your eyes," Sensei told him.

As he led Spock through the first simple instructions, Spock's mind frequently wandered, for since leaving Vulcan his discipline had become quite lax. More than once he actively tried to read Sensei's thoughts, instead of focusing on the Delight of Silence. Somehow Sensei detected Spock's mental lapses, but instead of rebuking him, gently returned Spock again and again to the lesson at hand.

Spock could tell that Mr. Akita liked him. There was an almost palpable sense that Sensei liked everyone. Spock felt himself relaxing in the man's presence and wishing very much to please this kindly teacher. He would be seeing a lot of Sensei. In addition to private instruction periods, Spock would soon join other Enclave children in group meditation and martial arts. This morning he had seen a red-haired boy out walking with his father. Might they become friends? Would any human child accept him?

"Focus."

Once again, Sensei's gentle voice drew him back into the present.

oooo

If not for the brilliant blue sky overhead, they might have been on planet Vulcan. The steep, bare walls of Providence Canyon were banded in bold shades of red, white, purple, and ochre. But unlike Vulcan, the summer air was humid — so much so, that the day felt considerably hotter than 90 degrees.

Amanda was glad she had donned shorts before setting out with Spock from the trailhead by Akita Enclave. At first, Spock had seemed rather shocked to see her dressed in such a skimpy manner, but now he was walking contentedly at her side, looking almost…happy.

"A plum leaf azalea," he said, stopping to finger the shrub's bright red blossoms and compare them to a display on his padd. "Providence Canyon is one of the few places where it grows. Sensei told me."

Amanda nodded. "Yes. It's hard to imagine that all this rugged beauty is the result of poor farming practices in the 19th century."

"Indeed," Spock concurred as he moved on down the trail.

Amanda was thankful that he liked Mr. Akita. After a mere two weeks of instruction, Spock was already showing signs of improvement. He had not lost his temper in days, and this morning he had openly smiled to hear that she was rewarding him with a hike.

Catching up to the boy, she ventured to say, "This area looks a lot like Vulcan, doesn't it? Do you ever miss our old home in ShiKahr?"

"Home is where the heart is," he replied without missing a step.

The matter-of-fact words took her by surprise. Though she had explained the old adage to him, he had never used Lenny McCoy's phrase before. Did it show a new acceptance of positive feelings?

Stopping in the shade of a tree, she drank from her canteen and then said, "Spock, there's something I need to tell you."

He gazed up at her, wide-eyed with expectation. His hair had learned to stay neatly parted to one side, in a popular human style. But those slanted brows and pointed ears clearly marked him as Vulcan. There remained but one other way to highlight his duel heritage.

"Spock," she began again. Though on the verge of asking if he missed his father, she could not bring herself to speak of Sarek. Instead, she simply told him, "I'm legally changing my surname back to Grayson. And I'm changing yours, too. You'll still be Spock, but Spock Grayson instead of S'chn T'gai." She paused to let the information sink in. "What do you think of that?"

After a moment of solemn consideration he replied, "It is only logical."

oooo

Spock was still clad in his karate clothes, fresh from a lesson, when he saw the red-haired boy again. It was unusual for the boy to be alone. He swung his legs so awkwardly that each step was clearly a struggle. Whenever possible, he steadied himself by holding onto a fence rail or tree trunk.

Concerned for the boy's safety, Spock followed at a discreet distance. But suddenly the boy stopped, turned around, and looked straight at him. Had there been some unintended form of mental contact?

"Hi there," the boy said with the same Georgia drawl as the McCoys.

How best should he respond? "I am Spock. Spock Grayson." That would do. He liked the sound of his new name.

"I'm Preston," came the reply. "Preston Jacobs. You're new, aren't you?"

Spock had expected him to say, _You're Vulcan. You're weird._ Taken aback, he finally replied, "I have not been here long." He refrained from adding a precise timeframe, which seemed to annoy some humans.

The boy clung more tightly to the fence beside him. "I'm not one of Mr. Akita's pupils. My parents just work around the place."

That explained why Spock had never seen him in the group classes. Though he would have liked to advance the conversation, he was unsure know how to proceed. Hesitantly he said, "I…I am six years old now. In Earth years." Once again he refrained from giving an exact measurement.

"You seem older," Preston remarked. "I'm eight. Can you play?"

Spock did not know if he was capable of human play. One time at Port Gamble, he had attempted to join an outdoor game called "hopscotch", but it was only meant for human females. Or so the girls had told him in a very unpleasant manner. He had seen other children pitching smooth white balls and catching them with padded mitts. He doubted if someone like Preston could engage in such physical activities.

The boy's freckled face seemed hopeful as he waited for Spock to answer. Gathering his courage, Spock said, "I…would like to try."

oooo

"Honestly," Amanda said with a heavy heart, "I don't know what more I can do."

A late afternoon thunderstorm had dropped the temperature enough to make her front porch bearable. It felt nice sitting with David McCoy, just sipping lemonade while Spock and Lenny amused themselves inside. Hopefully without bloodshed.

It was not the first time she had discussed her ongoing problem with David, who was always a good listener. In some ways, Spock was progressing well. But despite the best efforts of the enclave staff, he remained too isolated from his fellow students. "The kids here are nice enough, but he's too advanced for children his own age and too young to connect with the older ones. His Vulcan behaviors set him even further apart. There's only one way to describe it. He's completely inept when it comes to socialization."

The front door opened. Lenny came out and sat on the porch steps.

"Where's Spock?" Amanda asked him.

"I don't know, Ma'am," Lenny answered. "He went out back a few minutes ago."

Amanda turned to David. "That boy! See what I mean? It's plain rude to walk out on company. More and more, he just takes off by himself."

"Vulcans like their solitude," David reminded her.

"Well, he'll have plenty of solitude in his room when he gets back. I specifically told him that he was going to spend some time today playing, whether he liked it or not."

There was a sound of footsteps on the front path.

"Well, if that don't beat all," David said under his breath.

Amanda turned toward the path and found a pair of boys slowly approaching the house. The taller of the two had a tight grip on the other's arm. And no wonder, for he needed to steady himself as he hobbled along with a strange, twisting gait.

Her mouth dropped open and she got to her feet. She had noticed the disabled boy once or twice before, and now here was Spock bringing him to their door as if…

"Spock, I see you're back," David said, rising beside her. "And it looks like you're bringin' a young friend along."

The boys came to a stop.

"This is Preston Jacobs," Spock announced. "We have always played at his house, but his parents gave their permission for him to come here and see my cat. Is that alright, Mother?"

It took a joyous moment for Amanda to find her voice. "Yes. Yes, Spock, that's alright. In fact, it's wonderful."

After the boys passed by, David cleared his throat and murmured, "Amanda dear, you were sayin'…?"

oooo

Spock and Preston were not in the house very long when Lenny joined them in the living room. K'avon looked completely comfortable curled up in Preston's lap. The cat purred with feline contentment as Spock and his friend sat side by side on the sofa, petting him.

Lenny came over, and settling next to Preston, introduced himself. Then he added, "My father is out there on the porch. He's a doctor."

"Glad to meet you," Preston said warily.

Hoping Lenny would leave them, Spock revealed, "Preston does not… _doesn't_ …care much for doctors." Lately Mother had been teaching him "contractions" to make his language more like that of native born Earthlings. But like most Vulcans, he preferred formal modes of speech.

Lenny stayed put and addressed Preston. "I bet you've seen plenty of doctors. Has your condition been diagnosed?"

Spock frowned. "That is a rather intrusive question. He might not wish to discuss such a personal matter with you."

The faintest of smiles tugged at Preston's mouth. "Oh, Spock, you can go ahead an' tell him. I don't care."

Though it still seemed like an invasion of privacy, Spock explained, "He has a congenital malformation of the pelvis and lower spine. He has had several operations, but the condition cannot… _can't_ …be fully repaired until he stops growing."

Lenny leaned forward and looked straight at Preston. "Starfleet has been doin' some interestin' work on bone abnormalities. I heard about it at the medical conference in Seattle."

Spock stiffened. "I find that difficult to believe," he said with thinly veiled skepticism. "Starfleet is involved in space exploration, not medicine."

"Well, you pointy-eared pipsqueak," Lenny shot back, "you're not half as smart as you think. Starfleet's medical research department is right on the cutting edge. And since you're about to make some equally ignorant comment about the 'cutting edge', I'll save you the trouble. It means 'at the forefront of new discoveries'."

Spock went hot with humiliation. Though he was sorely tempted to bloody Lenny's nose a second time, he remembered a calming technique taught to him by Mr. Akita. He heard Sensei's placid voice reminding him, _"There is another, unseen Presence upon whom you can rely for inner strength."_ Turning to that Presence, he examined his own part of the conversation and realized that he, also, was not without some fault. Even so, he could not resist saying, "Leonard Horatio McCoy, you are a _round_ -eared pipsqueak."

Preston broke into loud laughter and gasped, "Horatio? Leonard Horatio?"

oooo

Summer was drawing to a close. Thanks to Spock's friendship with Preston Jacobs, and David McCoy's professional intervention, three families were gathered in the waiting room of an Atlanta hospital while young Preston underwent the very latest in corrective surgery.

Spock should have been pleased. Instead, he looked rather pale as he sat stiffly beside Amanda while she chatted with David, Lenny, and Preston's parents. In addition to Preston's good fortune, Spock had every reason to be proud of himself. As usual, he was excelling at his homeschool lessons, but even more gratifying was the latest report from Mr. Akita. _"Spock Grayson is a hardworking, respectful student who exemplifies the highest standards of Akita Enclave."_ As proof of Akita's success, Spock's temperament continued to grow ever more placid, while showing positive flashes of human spontaneity.

Yet here he sat, as glum as a rainy day. Was it concern about Preston?

Rising, Amanda took him over to a refreshment dispenser in the far corner of the room. As usual, Spock's dietary restrictions narrowed the choices considerably.

"How about some fruit chips?" she suggested.

"No, thank you," he replied somberly.

"Then a drink," she said, choosing his latest sugar-free favorite.

Amanda moved him to a nearby table, and they sat down.

"Preston will be just fine," she said in a reassuring tone.

Spock's brown eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Mother, how can you be certain? I've calculated the odds of medical complications. And…had I not come into Preston's life, he would be safe at home right now."

Amanda's heart wrenched. "Spock, you mustn't look at things that way. Why, you've been a wonderful friend to Preston. Always remember that the universe is unfolding as it should."

"Is it?" he questioned.

She was tempted to quote the Vulcan standard, _"Worry is illogical."_ But Spock's worry meant that he was in touch with his human half, something he must learn to live with for the rest of his life.

Placing her hand atop his, she asked, "Shall we pray for him?"

He did not withdraw from her touch, nor did he deny the efficacy of prayer. After a moment of quiet thought, he merely nodded.

oooo

Spock strode down a Providence Canyon trail with Preston close behind him. It was a pleasant October weekend, with the temperature hovering at 86 degrees. _Picnic weather,_ according to his mother. Therefore she had prepared some traditional fare and invited the McCoys, who had brought additional backpacks of edible items and beverages.

Rounding a corner, Spock picked up his pace. It delighted him — yes, _delighted_ him — to hear Preston chuckle, break into a run, and pass him by. Gone was the laboriously crippled gait that had limited Preston since birth. Having fully recovered from surgery, he now moved with the same ease as any other boy.

The sun was high overhead when they stopped under a stand of gum trees, spread a couple of blankets, and sat down to eat. There were several types of sandwiches, salads, and pickles. Mother had made cookies sweetened without sugar. The day would have been perfect if not for the presence of Lenny McCoy, who had recently turned thirteen.

As usual, Spock did his best to avoid him, for the youth's insulting words rankled painfully in his mind. But he knew that he should guard against harboring grudges. A sharp memory was a Vulcan trait that had led to much violence before Surak's reforms.

When the leisurely meal was over, everyone packed up and prepared to leave. It was then that Spock reached a decision and asked Lenny for a private talk. Peace between two warring parties could only be achieved through negotiation.

Lenny indulged his wish, and they walked a few yards down the trail.

Facing the older boy, Spock determinedly admitted, "You were correct about Starfleet medical technology. And I was in error."

Lenny rocked back on his heels. "Glory be, a genuine apology? Is that logical?"

Spock had hoped for an apology in return. But holding onto his temper, he quoted Mr. Akita. "Logic is only the beginning of wisdom."

Lenny's round face brightened. "Hey, Spocklet, that's not bad. Not bad at all."

Just then, Mother called out, "Spock, Lenny, we're going!"

Spock turned and saw Doctor McCoy reaching for her hand. In that instant, Spock's entire being focused on the touch. Though Earth customs were very different from those of Vulcan, he somehow sensed that the contact between the two adults held great significance.

Today he had advanced from a "pipsqueak" to "Spocklet". Were even more changes on the way?

oooOOooo


End file.
